Growing for piracy
by Lolater
Summary: Bella has been taught by her mother everything she knows, but how will she cope with being out there on the ocean and without her mothers guidence? And how will she react when she finds out her father is not dead afterall? Please R&R!
1. Default Chapter

Arrabella.  
  
My name is Arrabella but everyone calls me Bella on account to the fact that it is extremely hard to say Arrabella when you are drunk. It tends to come out in a confusing slur which sounds a bit like Anamaria and that is even more confusing because that is the name of my mother and it is too much for a drunkard to have two women peer over he calls out one persons name. Plus there is the fact that I prefer Bella as Arrabella sounds too posh.  
  
I look just like my mother but there is something that I cannot quite put my finger on, maybe its my nose or my mouth but something certainty doesn't look like my mother. She used to say that I looked just like my father or had his eyes at any rate. But I have never seen my father. He died when I was young, or so I am told. His name was Ben Windsman and he has always intrigued me. I used to question my mother about him all the time when I was younger but somehow she was always hazy on her replies and never told me much about him so I learnt to forget about my father.  
  
There were far too many other things that occupied me. When I was very young my mother and I lived on the outskirts of Tortuga. She said that I was too young to be subject to the drunk groping men who wandered the streets attacking anything that moved but she wanted me to be aware of what these men were capable of doing so that when the time came I could deal with them. I lived my young life down on the beach swimming and playing in my rowboat while being protected by my mother's warm loving arms. When I was only four years old she introduced me to my first sword and began teaching me all she knew. Some people that passed our house would either shake their heads at such a young female trying to handle a sword and some of them would stop to laugh and jeer. But I wasn't put off. My mother had told me that it was everything to be able to protect yourself and that one day I would be a master at the sword. So I practiced everyday and by the time I was six I could manage a full battle against my mother.  
  
Things began to change when I was seven. Mother was beginning to yearn for the open sea again. She would sit and tell me tales of her adventures out on the sea. How she had swung from the mast and thrust her sword deeply into one of the King's army men's side. These stories would keep my attention at the highest level for hours on end until the dying fire would burn out its last life. She would tell me how someday soon we would own our own ship and sail around the ocean visiting many countries while killing as many of the enemy as possible. Don't get me wrong; my mother wasn't all about death. She would sometimes sit and tell me legends of the sea and how to appreciate all life around me. I was to grow with a hatred for the enemy but a love for all things with the sea.  
  
So we packed up our things and went to live in Tortuga for a few months. We were to buy a ship but first we had to earn the money. As much as she hated it my mother got a job in a tavern and even I had to pull my weight. It was all in the price for freedom, proper freedom on the sea where we both belonged. I would wash the dirty mugs from the bar but was upgraded to collecting them from the tables. If I weren't trained to deal with these things I would have been a complete wreck by the end of an hour. But luckily for me my mother was Anamaria and she had taught everything she knew. I was fully prepared for the sneers and laughter of the pirates. And it turned out to be an advantage because I was tipped well and I helped myself to a tip or two when the men's back was turned. Along with sword fighting my mother had also taught me to be a pirate.  
  
By the end of the year we had scraped up just enough for a ship and a crew. So we set off into the grand open sea. The salt mist in my face, the smell of the breeze and the slow rocking of the boat made me feel as though I had lived on the sea my whole life. I was never happier in my whole life. We raided other ships and sometimes we would stop and board other fellow pirate ships to have some rum and sing merrily. Everyone was keen on the young eight year old and they taught me all the sword tricks they knew. Soon I was a better fighter than my mother, and then I was a better fighter than the whole crew! My mother was so proud of me, I was a natural born fighter.  
  
But then it happened. I had just turned fourteen and had been hit by a terrible fever. I could not move for aching muscles and my face was pouring sweat. The whole crew was worried that death would catch me in its great wings and take me away from them. My mother sat by my hammock throughout the days and nights nursing me as best as she could. Then that dreadful night happened. I cannot remember much of it as I was at my worst. One of the King's army ships had finally caught up with us after chasing us for weeks. All I could hear was the clatter of swords and the faint ripping of human flesh. I could only hope that it was the flesh of the enemy and not of the crew. How I wish I could have moved, to be back in a healthy body and to have fought the enemy for I was the best swordsman or swordsgirl onboard. But it was no use. 


	2. A day at work

"Do you think I'm runnin' an empty tavern here or what? Get back to work!" shouted an angry voice from inside the bar.  
  
My head came swimming back into present time and I lifted my head out from the bucket.  
  
"Stop hurlin' and get in here now or you'll find yoursel' with ou' a job!" continued the voice of my angry employer.  
  
Almost seven months had passed since my mother and our crew had been ruthlessly slaughtered by the enemy. I had been washed up on shore and found by a woman but not before I had seen the bodies of my once friends. She took me home; to the tavern I now work in, and nursed me for a few days until I was well again. The first thing I did was to find my mother. She was there, on the beach with the rest of them. They were dragging them away, burying them. I went up to her body and knelt down beside her. I whispered her name, but I knew she was dead. Her face was as pale as the moon.the same moon that she had once taught me to love. Her skin was as cold as the ocean.that same ocean which I held so dear to me.  
  
Another wave of sick came upon me and another yell from the bar warned me to work. Wiping my mouth I pulled myself together. After living on the sea for six years of my life I was finding it difficult to learn again how the land moved. Every couple hours or so I would have to duck out of the tavern to vomit in the bucket outside. As a result of this I was extremely thin.  
  
"I thought I told you to ge' back in 'ere Arrabella!"  
  
"Alright, alright" I shouted back, "and its Bella," I muttered under my breath. I walked back into the bar which I had been forced to call home for the last seven months. The woman who rescued me had died in childbirth a month after she had saved me leaving my with her wonderful husband who made me earn my keep by working in his tavern. It was nothing like Tortuga but the dusty streets of Jamaica bought enough pirates inland to keep a living.  
  
I began serving one of the locals, a retired pirate, his usual while fighting back another wave of sick. Get a grip, I told myself, you lived on land until you were seven!  
  
"You alright Bella?" inquired the man I was serving, Federico Green.  
  
"Yeah I think I ate something which doesn't agree" this, of course, was a total lie. Nothing in my whole life had ever upset my stomach before. This was probably due to the mixed nutrients of mouldy bread, raw fish and anything else that we could get our hands on which I had accumulated over the years.  
  
"Honestly I'm fine Fed" I said in answer to the looks of disbelief on his face. Suddenly I heard a loud cough from behind me. I turned to see my employer looking extremely annoyed at something, and then it clicked. "I mean.Mr Green" I finished.  
  
Mr Green chuckled into his rum and I gave him a sly smile. My employer can be a right idiot at times, as if a pirate wants to be called 'Mr'.  
  
I finished the day and began to walk to my small room when I was stopped by the boss who grabbed me by the scruff of the neck and breathed into my hair  
  
"If you ever talk to my customers in that way again I will personally remove you from this house and make sure that no one employs you on this whole island again. Do you hear me?"  
  
".Yes" I replied reluctantly.  
  
"Yes what?"  
  
"Yes sir"  
  
"That's better.now get out of my sight"  
  
He let go and I straightened out my clothes, but instead of going to my room I changed direction and set off for the beach. When I reached it I slipped off my shoes and dipped them into the cool water. When I was younger I never wore shoes but the boss had made me, he said it wasn't ladylike. However I would never be persuaded to wear a skirt no matter how much he yelled at me. Luckily when Wendy had been alive she made it clear that I was a pirate and seeing as pirates were not seen as 'enemy' in Jamaica she let me wear my breaches.  
  
I walked into the water and began to swim while the sun began to die. I felt only at home in the water, the ground finally moved in the right way and all feelings of sickness left my body. I swam for at least two hours because the sun had sunk and the stars had reviled themselves. I came back to shore and lay down on the cool sand staring up at the night sky, little was I aware that I was being watched.  
  
I began to think of my route home. I had been working hard and even though I was working for my keep I was allowed to keep the tips that I was given. Slowly I had been saving up so as to barter a ride home back to Tortuga on a passing ship. Home.I wonder what was happening there? I sighed deeply and stood up brushing the clinging grains of sand from my hair. And then suddenly, for no reason at all, I thought of my father. It had happened to me quite a lot recently, he just popped into my head. The father I never knew, the father I was desperate to know. The father who was dead.  
  
I began to walk back to the tavern and then, suddenly realising how late it was, I sprinted into a run. I had just made it back before he closed the doors. He was in a terrible mood again and complained loudly about the mess of my hair and the sand that I was trailing behind me. But I just smiled and ran to my room.  
  
Little did I know that the figure that had been watching me on the beach had followed me to the tavern and was now slowly walking into the gloom making a mental note of where I was. 


	3. An old face

The day dawned earlier than usual in the morning but already I was hard at work. Due to the mess of sand and wet footprints that I had trampled into the tavern the previous night I had my work cut out for myself. I scrubbed the floors and I scrubbed the tables, then I scrubbed the bar, then I scrubbed the mugs. I was still scrubbing when he came down in one of his filthy moods.  
  
"Work harder" he yelled.  
  
He could see how hard I was working already but he always had to tell me off for something to prove that it was he and not I that were in charge. However I did not take it to heart and I smiled to myself inside about this man who takes pride in such a small and pitiful tavern such as this was.  
  
In the beginning I had resented him for his commands and yells because before then I had had no one who would tell me what to do. I was free to do as I will, or up to a point anyway. In those bitter days I had often thought of unsheathing my sword and showing him who was boss, but that would have gone against all that my mother had taught me. To kill an innocent man. Instead I buried my anger and eventually it turned into pity.  
  
The morning chores finally ended at two in the afternoon and as soon as I had given the boss his lunch I set out for my free time. I was not needed again until three which gave me time to spend an hour on the beach.  
  
When I reached the beach I took in a deep breath of the sea air. It wasn't as good as being out at sea but for the time being this was the best I could get. I unsheathed my sword and began to act out all of my favourite moves. Most pirates become a little rusty at their sword work if they hadn't put it into practice for a few months but it was like a second nature to me. It was as though every time I picked up a sword my whole life would go on hold as I felt the power of the cold steel run through my body.  
  
I began getting a little carried away failing my sword around wildly going through thrash after thrash of movements getting quicker and quicker. I didn't realise that the shadowy man who had been watching me the night before was starting to approach me. I yearned for an opponent, longed to feel the thrill of another battle. I was running through a twirl slash when I suddenly felt the chink of another sword against mine.  
  
Immediately, before even turning around, I curved my sword under the challenger's blade flipped it up into the air and caught it with my free hand. I swung around to see the round face of a slightly scared pirate with his hands in the air.  
  
"Sorry to startle you young missy" he said nervously glancing at the sharp sword tip that had been thrust near his face.  
  
I squinted at this man and cocked my head slightly. Did I know this man? He looked familiar.  
  
"Bella? You don't remember me do you" he said in answer to my looks.  
  
"Hang on.no don't tell me" I said when he opened his mouth to tell his name.  
  
I cast my mind back; back to my life on the ship, back to Tortuga. Tortuga! That is where I had met this man!  
  
"Mr Gibbs!" I said finally.  
  
He sighed, relieved. I sheathed my sword and flung his sword into the air catching it with my left hand. I passed it back to him and smiled at his look of astonishment.  
  
"How did you." he trailed off  
  
"Thick skin" I replied showing him the thick strip of skin that had protected my hand from getting cut from the swords sharp blade. I had accumulated over the years by practicing it and, of course, putting it into practice.  
  
I sat down and motioned for him to do the same.  
  
"What on earth brings you here?" I questioned him amazed that someone from my past had caught up with me.  
  
"I was going to ask you the same thing. But we will talk about that later, where is Anamaria?"  
  
I looked at the ground. He didn't know. The memory of it all came flooding back through my mind, the pain, and the loss. I hadn't talked about it with anyone, not even the lady who rescued me it was too hard. I fell silent.  
  
"Eh?" he asked again, "where's your mom?"  
  
I had to tell him. There was no easy way out.  
  
"She's.dead," I whispered. I shut my eyes waiting for his reply.  
  
But it didn't come. I felt his arm around my shoulder and I looked up into his face. He was staring out to sea, the afternoon sunlight reflected in his round face.  
  
"When your as old as I am" he said at long last, "you see a great number of people around you die. And when you're a pirate you see a great number of people die. When I was your age my mother died and I thought that I'd never get over her death. The fact is you have to learn about death. Now your mother she taught you good. Fightin', stealin'and livin'. But the one thing she couldn't teach you was how to deal with death. Everyone has to sort that out for themselves, have their own way of dealing with it you know? When your fighting a battle and someone you love dies you cant just stop fighting and go over to them because you've gotta fight to keep yourself alive. Do you understand what im tellen' yea?"  
  
I nodded, letting it all sink in. It was painful but he was right, when a persons dead their dead.  
  
"When you're a pirate you have to expect those you love to die every now and then. It's the life that we have all chosen and your mother would have wanted to die in battle instead of rotting away into an old and helpless woman."  
  
I took in a deep breath and wiped my tears away. I was a pirate. I could deal with death. Even though I didn't realise it then those words from Mr Gibbs would often comfort me in the years to come.  
  
Suddenly I looked into the sky and saw the sun beginning to set. I was late for work!  
  
"Mr Gibbs! Oh I'm so sorry I have to go, I'm late for work!" I gabbled trying desperately to tie up my shoes and comb my wild hair back.  
  
"Work?" he enquired while I rushed about getting ready, "so that's where I saw you go last night?"  
  
"Yes, I'll tell you about it tomorrow but I really must go now," I said quickly as I stood up.  
  
"I'll meet you here at the same time tomorrow then ok?" he shouted after me as I began to run towards the bar.  
  
"Sure ok"  
  
Then he shouted something else after me but I didn't let it sink in properly as I was in such a rush.  
  
I reached the bar just in time. Met by evil glowers from the boss I ran behind the bar and began serving rum for all the rowdy pirates.  
  
Then I froze. I had just realised what Mr Gibbs had yelled at me. The glass tankard I was holding slid out of my hand and smashed with and ear- splitting crash. I stood there my face in disbelief at what he had said:  
  
"I'll help you find your father" 


End file.
